PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I am grateful for understanding the material things in life

our house

our car

our money

may momentarily appease

but the best gifts we can give our children

are a host of happy family memories  

When it comes to family…may we be blessed to see

whether or not the same blood courses through their veins..

those in our life who love us unconditionally 

are

were

and will always be

our members of our family.

They asked the old man what he thought his greatest achievement was…

It took a moment for him to contemplate

Before saying with a smile, 

“I suppose that depends on what you call an achievement…

and what is your definition of great.”

“Asking what my greatest achievement was assumes that it’s over…

that from that achievement I’ve moved on…

something I’ve accomplished whose time has come and gone.”

“But I like to think my greatest achievement…the one I hold most dear

is ongoing…will never end…even when I’m no longer here.”

“It’s the family I’ve helped preserve…

a long line of ancestors I’m proud to be a part of.

It’s the portion of this family I’ve helped create

that I’m blessed to be in the heart of.”

It’s spreading my love and acceptance far and wide

helping every member of my family grow

whenever they may need me…wherever they may go.

It’s loving each of them enough in this family I’m hoping to make

to give them the opportunities to make their own mistakes.

It’s coasting with them when the road they choose to travel is smooth

when on those days…just a smile is enough….

It’s offering them the love and support they need

those times when the road gets rough.

The old man sat down on a bench and chuckled

It seems to me as long as I live…the older and older I get….

my greatest achievement is something 

I’m not through achieving yet…

I am grateful that throughout may life…

around it’s curves and corners and bends…

I have had friends who’ve become my family

and family…who’ve become my friends.

When they were young they had big dreams…how old…together they would grow…

of the things that they would do…of the places they would go.

They dreamed of a kind of happiness neither of them alone ever knew.

They dreamed of being surrounded by friends and family…perhaps a pet or two.

One of the dreams they had that began all those years ago…

was of the perfect house…their ideal bungalow.

They even made a list of everything in their dream house they hoped to see

then set the list aside when they started a family.

But every now and then they’d take it out and through that list they’d comb…

remembering all the things they thought…would make a happy home.

They never built their bungalow…because they came to understand

life, despite their best intentions…doesn’t always go as planned.

But they were happy in the house where they raised their family…

they love their house…the two of them insist…

and when they look at that paper these days they realize…

they’ve achieved everything on their list.

If you ask them now they will smile and tell you their story…

without a whisper of a doubt…

how the house they’ve lived in all their life…

became the home they dreamed about.

When I was young and was sure there was a monster ‘neath my bed

after checking…my mom would assure me, ”There’s nothing for you to fear.”

Then she’d hold my hand and smile saying, “Don’t worry dear…I’m here.”

“I will be here as long as you need me…don’t worry your little head…

I will be here sitting next to you…to fight any monsters ‘neath your bed.”

I remembered those moments years later when she began misplacing things…

sometimes not knowing who I was…

when I saw the confusion on her face…because that’s what Alzheimers does…

I learned to cherish the times she knew me…

knew who she was…and then…

to enjoy every moment…when she was my mom again.

I never knew if her Alzheimers would be in control…

or if that day she’d be released

for that is the heartbreak of this disease…the nature of the beast.

There were times she could sense my worry…and she tried to ease my fear…

She’d take my hand…smile and say, “Don’t worry dear, I’m here.”

But this disease is unrelenting…at first making only small demands

willing to let her have her moments…while patiently waiting to take command.

On the days she didn’t recognize me…I’d try to hide my tears….

when she’d come back, take my hand and say, “Don’t worry dear…I’m here.”

When she was lost to me forever…when I could no longer hide my tears

I would take her hand in mine and place my lips next to her ears…

“Don’t worry, Mom.” I’d whisper…”There’s nothing for you to fear….

Wherever you have gone to…Don’t worry, Mom…I’m here.

“I will be here as long as you need me.” I’d say as I sat upon her bed.

“I will be here sitting next to you…to fight any monsters in your head.”

 We recently came face to face in this life we are arranging

how, whether we like it or not, the times they are a changing.

For more years than I can count…Deborah and, I acting like two stalkers,

prowled up and down the sidelines…

watching our children and grandchildren play soccer.

In all the years we watched them… all the goals we’ve seen missed and  made 

we’ve kept the same list of all the fields on which our children and grandchildren played.

With our youngest grandchild off to college…I came across that list the other day 

and even though there are no more soccer games to watch…

I didn’t have the heart…to throw that list away.

As I put the list in our chest…where it now becomes a treasured keepsake 

I came across this photo Deborah took of a family birthday cake.

For years at the end of August…our family found a way

to celebrated eight summer birthdays…all on the same day…

It was a wonderful celebration….one Deborah and I held dear

and one our entire family looked forward to each year.

But our family is more scattered this year…

and, knowing much of them could not attend,

meant one of our favorite celebrations…has now come…to an end.

It is true what they say… 

sometimes we are so captivated in the moment we are living in…

the one we’re concentrating on…

that we don’t think about how much we’ll miss it……until that moment’s gone.

It reminds us to enjoy each moment…each soccer game…each family celebration

and store that memory in our mind…

because we never know when it will be the last one of its kind.

If we’re lucky once they’re gone…

we’ll have a way to awaken those special moments in life we make…

perhaps something as simple as an old list of soccer fields…

or a photo of a family birthday cake.

May we be blessed to understand…

how raising a child is like planting a tree…

We nurture them with love, food and water and sun

but it’s only when they’re grown 

and we’re sitting in their shade

do we realize how good a job we’ve done.

With her youngest child now in college…beginning her own life quest…

Ali, our daughter…(as Deborah and I and so many parents before)

is left with an empty nest.

We spend years keeping our children close 

giving them someone whom they can rely on

and then one day we look around 

and just like that…

they’re gone.

And we’re faced with the paradox of parenting…

that pulls at our heartstrings:

How we’ve nurtured our children’s roots…

while helping to develop their wings.

Hoping those roots of love we’ve nurtured…

and helped to beautify…

will keep us all connected…no matter where they fly.

And though there’s a twinge of sadness as our children soar… 

we also feel blessed

knowing those wings we helped create 

will bring them back into our nest.

I hope Ali…when she looks at their unoccupied rooms 

beyond her tears will also find a smile

knowing her nest will never completely empty…

just vacant for a while.